The quilter is king

A week full of Sundays

Empty Streets are quiet
Everyday feels like a Sunday
Life became simple
No more complicated plan
Go for a run
Encourage the bike
Learn something new
Cut out the unnecessary
A world of advertisement
Campaigning spending oiling
Trim the fat
Always trying to sell you something
Enjoying things we don’t know how to appreciate and don’t deserve
The wound of the city waking
The sound of the birds chirping

Let the music flow in
If Smokey’s going to be okay
The quilter will be king
Ruling a world full of Sundays